Oliver
by Fear-The-Spork
Summary: Although the Spike/Kitten angle has been done to death, I really wanted to give it a go, so here it is. A sugary sweet taste of Oliver. Any Epilogue I want to add will be rated M, so if you want smut then you'll have to tell me. Enjoy.


Sunnydale, California wasn't the kind of place that faced torrential rain everyday- more like every year, once a year at most. But when it rained it practically flooded, and the dull pavements were awash with floating rubbish and debris from unstable buildings or from messy alleyways. The overcast, almost black sky set the tone for the mood in Sunnydale. A chilly wind blew from the east, sending dogs and cats into their warm homes to curl up next to a fire, and people to do just the same. Even the resident evil of demons, vampires and the sassy Slayer refused to get themselves wet and stayed indoors, all cozy and covered in thick blankets.

A peroxide blond vampire rushed along the alleyway, avoiding three inch deep puddles and clutching his leather trench coat around him tightly. He may be a vampire, forever cold, but he didn't like the rain as much as any warm blooded human did. The thunder rolled above like the sky was threatening to cave in, and for a moment it roared so loudly that Spike wondered if it would. The consequential flash of lightening across the sky followed, lighting the sky for a brief moment before fading away, to wait for it's cue once more.

Hoping across another swirl of rain water, intermixed with something that made him crinkle his nose in disgust, Spike carried on towards his crypt, which he knew would be flooded at this point. Probably wrecked the fuck out of his couch, and he was momentarily thankful that his TV was on a stand and out of reach of the waters.

He briefly wondered if the Slayer was worried about him out in the rain, but that thought was instantly followed by a manly snort of laughter. Dawn might wonder if he was warm and dry, and sure, Joyce would give him a thought and offer a hot mug of chocolate if he turned up at their door, dripping on their porch. But the Slayer would rather see him drown- not that it was possible for him to drown, but she'd love to see him give it a go.

His disastrous attempt at making her admit to loving him had found him banished from her home, and he groaned when he thought back to it. What in God's name had he been thinking? No wonder she wouldn't look at him with anything but disgust in her emotion filled green eyes. He snorted once more. Emotion filled green eyes?

There was more of that wanker William left in him than he cared to admit.

A car sped past him, sloshing a wave of water over his already wet and uncomfortable jeans, and he roared several British insults after them, before finally giving up and sighing solemnly. Even if the bastard stopped their car, what could he do? Threaten to beat up their car? He had been feeling more sorry for himself ever since Buffy had rejected him, and the Scoobies were avoiding him even more so than usual. Hell, without the Niblet being allowed near him, Spike was lucky if he talked to anyone but Willy in a week. The demon population of Sunnydale viewed him as the worst kind of traitor, so there was no chance of bonding between demon blokes.

He nudged a soggy cardboard box aside with the toe of his boot and perfectly intended to carry on walking, until he heard the little, barely distinguishable mew from inside. The thunder of the rain on rooftops and the ground would have made it impossible for a human to hear it, but as Spike bent down, the box gave another feeble meow.

He lifted an edge gingerly, the mushy cardboard practically falling apart under his touch. As he lifted it higher, a pair of deep brown, pleading eyes met his, and with the box shoved to one side, Spike was left staring at the wet, shivering and pitiful sight that was a tiny ginger kitten. It stared right back, just as surprised as he was, and he cocked his head to the side. His immediate thought was lunch, after all he was evil, but as it stared up at him, it's eyes shimmering and it's bedraggled torso shaking from the cold, Spike felt that surge of pity that he hated. William was back and he frowned. Reaching down he gripped the kitten by the scruff of it's neck, ignoring it's panicked meow, and lifted it so it was face to face with him.

"You know I could eat you, don't you?" he smirked, but the kitten did nothing but mewl pathetically again. Spike shifted into game face, but again the kitten didn't react and he growled.

"Can't even scare a bloody kitten... Buggering fuck!" he yelped. The kitten had chosen that moment to put him in his place, batting it's paw and catching the tip of his nose with a tiny, but razor sharp claw. He snarled once more, but was rewarded by the ball of fluff trying to bat at him again. Was this what he had been reduced to? Growling at a kitten in an alleyway, and still not being able to induce fear into it?

Maybe it was just a really brave cat. He shifted his game face away, staring the kitten down, blue eyes boring into brown, innocent ones. Reminded him of the Lil'Bit a lot. It shivered again helplessly and Spike sighed, before dropping the pathetic creature into the deep pocket of his duster. He repeatedly called himself a ponce as he checked around for anymore hidden in the rubbish, and when he found none, he stalked moodily back to his crypt.

The lump in his pocket fidgeted and fumbled around, and when he stuck his hand into the pocket to quiet it down, he was rewarded with a nibble on his thumb as the cat curled into his touch, not making another sound as he stomped across the soggy graveyard.

Pushing his door open, he groaned, watching as several empty blood packets floated past him and out the door as the water poured out like he'd pulled the plug in a bath. He knew he couldn't stay here tonight, and the way the rain was still sheeting down, he couldn't stay under some bus shelter either. He grimaced at the thought of going to the boy for somewhere warm to sleep, and he knew that after his bitey incident last year, Willow wouldn't be none to happy to let him kip at the dorms. He let his thumb stroke over soft, quickly drying fur and he sighed heavily.

The Slayer it was. Maybe her mum would take pity on him.

He began a weary trudge to her house, pausing when he got there, as laughter drifted through the house.

"What do you think? Should we knock?" Spike murmured at the cat in his hand, and it cocked it's head to the side, much like he had done earlier, before mewling softly. "S'that a yes?" he raised a scarred eyebrow at the orange fur-ball. It mewed mindlessly again, nuzzling his hand as he dropped it back into his pocket.

"Yes it is..." he raised his hand to knock, but before he could get anywhere near the wood, the door swung open, momentarily blinding him with the light from the living room flooding out into the swiftly darkening night. Buffy stood in front of his, disgust and annoyance clearly written on her face.

"What do you want Spike?" her tone told him that she was in no way feeling charitable towards him, and he didn't think a little kitten could sway her much.

"Spike's here?" he heard a screech from the living room as Dawn launched herself outside, and under Buffy's outstretched arm. She stopped just short of hugging him, due to the fact that he was drenched. His clothes hung on him, dripping onto the porch and his hair stuck to his head, flat and sodden.

"'Lo Niblet," he managed a smile under Buffy's withering gaze.

Joyce had appeared behind the two sisters, smiling softly at him, always enough to make him feel welcome, but with Buffy glaring at him with enough heat to turn him to dust, it was lost on him.

"My crypt flooded," he said softly, not meeting her eye. "Don't have anywhere t' go..." he finished pathetically, reminding himself somewhat of the kitten in his pocket.

"So you figured you'd just come and beg from us? Not happening. Dawn, get inside so I can close the door," Buffy ordered her sister, who, for all the good it did, glared daggers at Buffy. Joyce frowned and said her daughters name softly, but she got no reply. When Dawn didn't move from the drenched vampire's side, Buffy all but growled at her. "Now Dawn."

"No! Mom! We can't just let him stay out here. He has no-where else to go," she pleaded, but the Slayers gaze remained hard.

"Dawnie, come in the house sweetie," Joyce ordered softly, and the Niblet looked as if she might cry. The thought warmed Spike slightly, knowing that at least two of the Summers women could stand to look at him.

"Go on Bit. I'll find somewhere..." Spike ushered her tearful form inside, and she shoved Buffy aside angrily, never ceasing her glaring match with her sister. Buffy turned her attention back to the vampire. "Look, Slayer, I'll go alright? Didn't want to cause any trouble..." he turned away from the light of the house, but not before a loud and piercing meow rang out from the duster's pocket, and a little ginger head poked out sleepily.

"Why the hell do you have a kitten in your pocket?" Buffy's question made him pause under the edge of the porch. Spike turned back, glancing down at the little head, stroking it gently while it nuzzled him once more.

"Found 'im in an alleyway. Looked pretty pathetic so I thought I'd... you know, keep 'im..." he mumbled sheepishly, looking away and beginning his lonely trudge through Sunnydale to look for somewhere warm to sleep. Joyce nudged Buffy from her thoughts and the Slayer called after him softly.

"We have a spare room Spike. But only for tonight. Come in..." he stood like an idiot for a few seconds, still in the rain, before a soft purr made him walk forward and he couldn't help the smile that spread over his face as he walked through the magical barrier that had once kept him out. "Don't get any ideas okay?" Buffy still looked angry at him, but the deadly look from her eyes had all but gone. Dawn screeched her thanks at Buffy before Spike pulled the kitten from his pocket and she was distracted by the cute little fuzzy ball of warmth that had all but melted the Slayers heart as she gave it a sidelong glance.

It purred and mewled at the attention from the teenager and Spike found himself growing more attached to the little orange bugger. He picked it up gently, holding it up before raising an eyebrow. "S' a little boy..." he concluded as Dawn looked at him hopefully from the bottom of the stairs. "What should we call 'im?"

"Oh! I have the perfect name for a ginger cat! What about Oliver?"

Spike frowned at the almost too cute name, but her hopeful look gave him no choice. "Oliver it is then..." he scratched the tiny head and the purr that he got in return made him smile. Stupid ginger kitten, making him all the more neutered than usual. "Why Oliver though pet?" he turned to Dawn as Joyce descended the stairs with a fluffy white towel for him. He took it for her gratefully and she smiled at him in that knowing way that mothers usually do. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Dawn smiled sweetly at him.

"Have you never seen that cute Disney movie? You know, Oliver and Company? Nifty singing dogs and a sweet little ginger cat named Oliver?" At Spike's incredulous look, Dawn shrugged. "What? You can save a helpless little kitten, but you can't watch Disney movies with singing dogs?"

"'ve seen the Lion King 'nd Beauty and the Beast, but thats the extent of my Disney knowledge..." Spike's voice was muffled under the towel as he scrubbed his hair dry, the gel that held it down now lost forever. Said hair now spiked up into the ponce like soft curls that he'd always tried to hide. At this point he really didn't give a damn. When he'd finished, Joyce handed him a pair of gray sweats which smelt faintly of Captain Cardboard. She looked at him apologetically when he grimaced, but he took them all the same, not wanting to seem ungrateful to the sweet lady who reminded him so much of his own mother. From the living room, he could practically feel the tension coming from Buffy and he was suddenly glad that the Niblet and Joyce were here. If they weren't he would be nothing but dust in the wind by now.

He slipped up the stairs and into the bathroom, changing quickly and leaving his shirt, duster and pants over the radiator to dry. His boots weren't that bad, the good quality saving them from any permanent damage, but he stuck them next to the heat anyway, hoping he'd have something warm to put his feet into if and when the Slayers patience ran out and he was kicked out onto the street once more. He could hear Joyce down the stairs quietly telling Buffy to behave herself and he know the Slayer would. After all, Joyce was a scary lady when she was mad and her daughter knew that more than anybody else. He smiled to himself as he pushed open the bathroom door and wandered back down the stairs.

He was immediately assaulted by the whirlwind that was Dawn Summers, holding up a DVD entitled 'Oliver and Company' and giving him her -million dollar-wrap Spike around her little finger- winning smile and he could do little but pick up his kitten and follow her obediently into the living room. The look on the Slayers face when he entered told him that she's never seen him like this before, probably thinking that all he ever wore was the same black ensemble with slicked back hair. Spike knew she was still angry at him, but knowing that he could still make a woman stare at him like that, was damn good for his ego. Dawn pushed him into the nearest armchair with the command of 'stay there or die', before flouncing over to the TV and sticking in her choice of movie.

Oliver mewled on his lap, clearly unhappy about the lack of attention and Spike smirked, scratching his furry head with one finger softly. Said fur-ball yawned and curled up on his knee, clawing at his sweat pants and circling until he was comfortable, before collapsing ungracefully onto him and purring as he drifted into a deep sleep. Spike's undead heart melted all the more and as Dawn settled on the floor at his feet after dimming the lights, he smiled. Joyce and Buffy were curled on the couch together, not protesting in the least at Dawn's choice of movies. In fact, as the little cartoon kitten got caught in the rain, abandoned and alone, he swore he heard the Slayer, big, tough, scary demon hunter, sniffle like a little kid.

Spike even felt himself get irritated when all the other little kittens were picked over the ginger one and his hand fell protectively to his lap where Oliver napped quietly, leading Spike to wonder how he had come to be under that box, shivering and wet. He frowned, letting the cat nuzzle him gently and not noticing when Buffy glanced over at him, fighting a small smile from her gracing her lips.

X-X

Stupid sweet yet evil vampire, her brain said and her consciousness agreed whole heartedly. How dare he come to her door all dripping wet, with that damn cute kitten looking up with pleading eyes and longing at the warm house? Blue puppy dogs eyes and chocolate kitten eyes together were something even she couldn't say no to, hence evil, yet confusing vampire sitting in her armchair, in her living room, watching a Disney movie with her family.

Life was becoming stranger than usual, which is a challenge for a Slayer with a Key for a sister, two witches for friends and an annoying ex-vengence demon controlling the cash register in the Magic Box.

Of course she was still livid about how he'd gone about professing his so-called love for her, which by the way, she was still trying to process. She knew deep in the back of her head why he had done it though. Spike knew she would never give him the chance to say those words to her while she was free to run away or at least punch him in the nose. She let out a soft sigh of confusion. Spike loving Drusilla for over one hundred years was enough to make her sure that he was capable of love, and looking at him watching that kitten in his own protective way, Buffy knew that part's of his old human emotions had remained in Spike when his demon had taken over.

The only part she couldn't process was how on earth he had fallen in love with her of all people after spending years trying to spread her body parts over Sunnydale. Willow's little Engagement Spell last year hadn't left her with anything other than the occasional naughty dream about blue eyes and whispered promises, so she was sure that Spike's feelings were something developed by him and not by magic. Oh, those dreams, Buffy caught herself blushing as a tingle went up her spine. So good and yet so bad at the same time, enough to wake her up in a hot sweaty daze, glad that she hadn't let Riley stay the night, so she wouldn't have to face those awkward questions about why she was gasping Spike's name in her fantasies and not his.

Her devastation at his departure was somewhat short lived with the joy of her mother's speedy recovery and the prompt yet life threatening defeat of the half human-half God who'd been a threat for a while. Now that she had time to think again, she was in a way glad that Riley had gone. She missed him yes, missed that relationship and closeness, but it still felt nice to be free for a while.

And then, there was the mystery that came in a Spike shaped wrapper. His profession of love couldn't have come at a worse time, when her mother was ill and Riley had hot-footed it out of town and the Bad Home Perm Queen was roaring for her blood, but as Buffy paused to look at him now, slowly dozing in the armchair, a kitten drooling on his leg and her sister perched at his feet, she couldn't help but smile. As angry, as annoyed and as confused as she was, she knew that he was the one still there. Maybe that alone proved his admission of loving her.

Angel had flown off in the 'Angel mobile' like the caped-crusader condemning all in his way to the pits of hell and self-righteousness, while Riley had swanned off to the jungle in a haze of love me or lose me, just let me get suck jobs from vampire hoe bags on the side. And yet, the one vampire, who had sworn first to kill her, and now to love her, was still here. He came back like a bad penny, rolling into her life when she least expected it and if she was being honest with herself, she did expect it now.

She thought back to his disastrous attempt at a date and had to hold back her giggle at 'Do you like the Ramones?'

She didn't love him. And yet, she felt something, deep down in that niggling part of her stomach that told her if he was dusted, she'd be devastated and she would show it. He adapted to the chip with ease, still holding his bravado and cocky attitude that made her want to kick his ass, but that crushed look on his face when she'd slammed the door on him that night, so many weeks ago had made her almost regret her decision, but her anger at the time had overrode any feelings she may have had.

To be honest, her anger at him for the past few weeks had been for show. Willow was the only one she'd told of her growing feelings of hospitality for the persistent vampire, and to Buffy's surprise Willow had explained that she had no right to judge any relationship. Buffy had vehemently denied a relationship of any sorts, but Willow had shrugged, continuing on to remind Buffy about Oz the werewolf, and her now lesbian partner Tara. In a way, she was glad she had talked about it.

Whether she liked it or not, Spike was a part of her life and a big one at that. She sighed again, louder this time causing Joyce to look over at her eldest daughter. "Sweetie?"

"Oh, sorry mom. I'm just brooding a bit..."

"You should be careful with that pet. Might turn into tall, dark and forehead. We wouldn't want that now..." Spike, who had clearly not been asleep, looked at her warily as Dawn giggled at his feet. Buffy could see that he was nervous saying anything to her, not wanting to get his head snapped off, but she gave him a soft smile instead.

"Shut up Spike."

He raised a scarred eyebrow at her, saying nothing else as he turned back towards the TV. Joyce also gave her a questioning look but gave up when Buffy shrugged nonchalantly and went back to watching Dodger sing about no worries and howling with the other dogs on the screen. The kitten in Spike's lap raised it's head to look at the TV in what could only be described as disgust at the dogs display before turning back around and burying it's head into it's vampire owner slash pillow once more.

It all seemed so domestic.

Buffy decided that she liked it very much. It was a nice and welcome change from the hectic pace of life that came with the whole Slayer package. The rain was still pounding mercilessly on the windows and it was well past midnight before Dawn called it a night and sloped off to bed, her eyelids drooping and her yawns stretching past her feet. Spike followed her, heading to the guest room obediently, kitten curled against his bare chest like a baby. Joyce gave up her fight against sleep around half past one and trudged to bed, hoping that the lawn wasn't flooded in the morning, but knowing that it would be. As Buffy crept to her room fifteen minutes later, her interest was quipped as she stealthily went past the guest room.

Surely kittens didn't purr that loudly? The noise was that loud that she could hear it even with the door closed and Dawn's snores along the hall, which could drown out even the loudest fire engine siren. Cracking the door open a bit, she saw Spike sprawled in a manly way across the bed, covers pulled to his waist, Oliver perched on top like a little ginger cherry. She was more than a little surprised when she looked closer and found that it was Spike doing all the purring, while the kitten napped quietly. Since when had vampires purred?

Angel had never so much as given a little happy rumble, since his pursuit of happiness led to a world of bad. But here was Spike, evil genius and Slayer of Slayers, purring away so loudly that the ginger cat on his chest was practically vibrating along with him. Dammit, was all she could think. Evil vampires don't love, don't help Slayers, don't rescue itty bitty kitty cats and they certainly didn't purr. So what in the hell did that make the vampire currently stretched somewhat deliciously over her guest bed? Shaking her head clear of bad thoughts that led no-where good, she crept closer and listened in a mesmerized fashion at his contented rumble.

He murmured something in his sleep that sounded suspiciously like 'Bloody Hell' and the Slayer held back a giggle at him. Stupid, kind of sweet yet still considered evil vampire. In a moment of clarity, Buffy gently pressed her warm lips against his sleeping cheek, before pulling away and scampering back to her room as quietly as she could.

Back in the bedroom, Spike slowly opened his eyes and smiled softly. Thanks to a bloody kitten, he had his crumb of hope.

Maybe Oliver was the woman magnet he'd always wanted. He looked down at the ginger tom, drooling inelegantly onto his chest.

Yeah, maybe not then.

X-X

Yes, I'm well aware that this amount of fluff can kill a person and the Spike/Kitten angle has been done to proverbial death, but I'm willing to give it a go. My first BTVS one-shot, so what did you think then? Should I add an NC-17 epilogue? Or should I keep it short, sweet and clean? Thanks for reading ^^


End file.
